The Third Request
by hawaii5063
Summary: Albus is dead, and leaves behind a strange request of Minerva McGonagall. See how she fufills it. An unusual pairing, but a short read. Give it a try!


The Third Request

Albus was dead. Minerva would not have believed the report from Minister Fudge had he not been accompanied by none other than an ashen face Arthur Weasley. Arthur had seen the body himself, as the successful suicide attack had taken place in the hallways of the Ministry of Magic. It had been a show of strength of course. Showing the entire wizarding world that _no one _wassafe – anywhere - from the Dark Lord. 

The Head of Gryffindor had given up listening now that Fudge had finished with any important information, and was now simply attempting to deflect blame from himself and his administration. Besides, it was taking all of Minerva's tremendous concentration to remain in control of her emotions. After a few more minutes Filius Flitwick thankfully interrupted.

"Minister, I believe considering the seriousness of the situation, the staff has many things that must be taken care of immediately. Perhaps the remainder of this ..er…conversation can take place another time?"

Minerva wasted no time in getting out of her chair and giving instructions to her fellow staff members, ignoring the fact that Fudge had never really acknowledged Professor Flitwick's interruption. It was then that she noticed Severus Snape had left the room. She had seen him earlier; indeed she thought he had been standing directly behind her chair. When had he left? Hadn't anyone noticed? No, knowing Severus he had managed the impossible – to slink out of a room full of silent, attentive people, without anyone being the wiser.

As soon as she had sent Fudge and the staff – her staff, she reminded herself – on their way, she was accosted by Fawkes. The magnificent bird, which like Severus could remain unnoticed if he chose, was now swooping around her head, pecking madly at her hair. 

She pointed at the perch and Fawkes obeyed, landing at a slight angle to demonstrate the scroll he had clenched in the talons of his left foot. Minerva approached the bird and removed the parchment gently. Deep down she knew what it was, as she desperately fought back down the grief that was trying to surface. 

She sat in the oversized chair that was next to Fawke's perch, the one Albus always sat in while stroking his feathered friend and trying to relax away the stresses inevitable in a purposeful life. She untied the crimson satin ribbon and unrolled the paper. As she expected, the note was from Albus. 

_In receiving this letter, you can be assured, my dearest Minerva, of my demise; as Fawkes will know better than anyone when that event occurs. I ask that you not waste any precious moments grieving for me, for as you well know, there are many dangers that this situation shall create. I ask you to act upon the following items as soon as you conclude this parchment._

_Find Harry Potter and ensure his safety by any means necessary. Fawkes is to remain with Harry at all times from now until the defeat of Voldemort. Fawkes is now his._ _Alert Remus Lupin to the situation. He will alert the remainder of the Order. There is no need for you to do anything concerning the Order except to continue in your present role. Remus will take my place in that regard._ _Find Severus. Perhaps it is vanity that makes me believe that my death might cause him great distress, but I will rest easier knowing that you will be looking out for him._

_Be well, my dearest._

_Albus_

Minerva immediately set about fulfilling Albus' instructions. Indeed the diversion was most welcome. She would need to allow the grief to surface eventually, but at the moment she would rather face down a gaggle of lost Death Eaters than deal directly with the death of her mentor. 

Unfortunately, fulfilling Albus' last wishes was not taking nearly long enough. Harry Potter was quite safe in his common room, where all the students were now huddled, crying on each other's shoulders and hugging one another over the loss of their Gryffindor Headmaster. Fawkes' gentle trilling seemed to fit right into the melee of sadness, as he perched on Harry's shoulder.

Remus took the news with Gryffindor stoicism. While it was clear that he was filled with sadness, he also had a very large job to fulfill now, and his bodiless form in the Headmaster's fireplace soon set off to inform the others.

There was only one item left on Albus' parchment. Severus. Albus had said to "look out for him". Look out in what way? Simply assure that he did not take his life in a fit of grief? That was something she highly doubted, Albus' note not withstanding. Protect him, perhaps – but how? He was a spy, and even Albus himself could not ensure his safety. Mentor him in some way? Surely Albus could not have expected Severus to allow any intrusion into his privacy from her the way he had tolerated it from him. Minerva wished that there was someone else, anyone else, that she could foist this last request upon. She would have to think that through a bit. Perhaps Filius? Or even Poppy? Well, she would think more on it later. But for now she would simply go and check on the Slytherin Head of House. She was after all the Headmistress now. It was part of her job anyway.

She took a deep breath, wiped away the small bit of moisture that had been threatening to leak from her eyes, and set off for the dungeons. If Severus Snape was brooding, that was where he would be. 

She made her way down the steps from her beloved Headmaster's office, through the hallways and down the dark, dank steps of the dungeon. As she walked she could feel the temperature drop, and the coldness seemed to sap some of the remaining Gryffindor courage from her. Tears began to trickle from her eyes, and she had no sooner wiped one away than another fell. She wrapped her robes tighter around her body and inadvertently found the self-hug to be comforting. She paused in her ambling, and closed her eyes, briefly remembering the feel of Albus' arms around her. She had lived such a solitary life these last twenty years that if it was not for the occasional all encompassing hugs from Albus, she could barely say she had been in the arms of a man at all. When had that happened to her, she wondered? She had never been promiscuous of course, but she had always been able to find male companionship in her younger years. Did she look so unattractive now? Was that what had happened? Had she simply grown old? Or was it her stern demeanor that kept the wizards away? She had not always been this forbidding. She remembered that once she had been quite open, and perhaps even friendly towards others. But the first war with Voldemort had been so brutal, killed off so many of the people that she loved – friends, family and students, – that it was hard to ever be so open, so vulnerable, again.

She opened her eyes and proceeded the remaining distance to what she always thought of as Severus' lair. There were no Slytherin students around. They were in their common room as instructed, no doubt many of them celebrating the demise of the most powerful wizard in Britian, leaving that title now to the Dark Lord. 

She knocked.

There was no answer, much as she had expected. She had known Severus since he was eleven years old, and the one thing that had never changed about him was his intense need for privacy. More than once the entire staff had to go out searching for the missing young Slytherin, only to find him in a part of the castle that only a handful of people knew existed. Still, Minerva expected that he was indeed in his rooms, and that he was simply ignoring her. He was going to make her stand there wondering whether he really was within or not, until finally she would give up.

Only not today. Not with Albus' request hanging over her head. She took to a very unladylike banging.

Still, silence.

 She waved her wand and uttered a few ward illuminating spells. The complex patterns that appeared before her eyes were like nothing she had ever seen. She could never undo them, not in a thousand years. How on Earth would she ever gain entry?

"You need not bother with those spells. You are the Headmistress now, after all."

Minerva turned to see a suit of armor, with its head cocked in her direction. 

"Whatever are you getting at?" she responded primly, upset to see that someone, even a suit of armor, had been watching her useless attempts at ward breaking.

"The Headmistress has access to all rooms in the castle. Even _his_."

Minerva cautiously reached out to the door handle and pulled on it. It clicked open for her. The castle apparently knew that Albus was gone, and was recognizing her as his successor. She wondered briefly if she would ever feel that the school was really hers, the way Albus had. Then she pushed the door open.

The room was mostly dark. Lit only by small wall sconces. Severus was hunched over his desk, a stack of parchments in front of him, quill paused in hand.

There was silence for a few moments, then the sarcastic hiss of his voice floated through the air.

"Took you long enough to figure out you could just enter."

Minerva bristled at the insult to her intelligence. "I was being polite by knocking. You might have been courteous enough to have answered."

"And _you_ might have been courteous enough to have gone away when I did not."

Minerva bit back a reply. He was difficult at the best of times. But he was hurting now, just like the rest of them, just like her. She needed to allow him to win this particular argument. 

"We should talk, Severus."

"That is what we are doing, is it not?" He didn't even look up from his papers. 

"Albus left me certain instructions."

"And I am sure you will fulfill them admirably," his voice sounded ragged compared to his normally smooth as silk tones.

She decided that a direct approach might be best. "There were three instructions actually. They concerned Mr. Potter's safety, informing the Order through Remus, and seeing to your welfare."

Just for a moment his face froze in time, with unseeing eyes staring down at the parchment in front of him. The quill quivered a bit in his hands, but otherwise his body gave off no movement. Then, before she had time to react, the Potion's Master flew from his chair, knocking it over in his wake, and with less than half a dozen strides was across the room, his black piercing eyes just inches from Minerva's face.

"So," he hissed between clenched teeth, "our illustrious, and now dead, former Headmaster thought that once Mr. Potter was all cozy and safe, and his pet werewolf off doing his bidding, that you might see to it that I haven't done something foolish in my supposed grief. Is that it, _Headmistress McGonagall_?"

Minerva swallowed but was careful not to back up. Doing that would be a sign of submission and she would not allow that with Severus. It had taken years to gain her authority with him and she'd be damned is she was going to lose it now. 

"You are not frightening me, Severus. So you can just back up a foot or two, right this instant." She waited and he straightened up, so that he was no longer leaning over her, but he did not step back.

The Head of Slytherin looked down his nose at the Headmistress, and his low baritone rumbled softly, but dangerously, from deep within his throat. "If you are not frightened of me, you are more of a fool than I thought."

Minerva tried to ignore the insult while her mind rushed with possibilities. Could Albus have misjudged him? Was he perhaps still a loyal Death Eater?  Or was he implying something else? Minerva noticed at that moment that his eyes were carefully scrutinizing her in her entirety. He was taking in every inch of her body and was making no effort to conceal it. It was very un-Slytherin, and it set off Minerva's intuition, screaming with impending danger.

Slowly she made to step to the right, but he shifted his body in front of her. She then moved to the left, and he did the same. Their eyes met, both gleaming with anger. It was some sort of challenge, but for what purpose Minerva did not know. She had only one clear option left, and she knew she had better do it quickly, while she possibly still had the element of surprise.

She went for her wand but he was too fast, grabbing her wrist and pinning it to the wall behind her as he pushed her body against the hard stone. The uneven surface of the wall scraped her back through her robes and her wrist ached with the tightness of his grip. Her breath was coming fast and her heart was pounding in her chest, but she used all her Gryffindor courage to keep her voice as steady as possible.

"Release me immediately, Severus."

She thought he might chuckle, the way Lucius Malfoy had done once when he had happened on her in an alleyway of Hogsmeade. He had done just what Severus had done now, except that he had chuckled at her defiance. Luckily Bill Weasley, a seventh year at the time, had come around the corner and Lucius had made a quick exit. But Severus was not laughing at her, nor was he listening to her. He seemed off in his own thoughts. And they were apparently angry ones, for his brow was knitted and fury could be read in every line of his face.

She tried again. "Let me go, Severus."

Her words brought his attention back from wherever it might have wandered. But he did not release her. Instead he brought his mouth down on hers, hard and unwelcome. She struggled underneath him, but it did little good. He pinned her other shoulder to the wall with his spare hand and pressed his body up against hers, effectively wedging her to the wall. She tried to kick at him but he trapped both her legs with a sharp knee across her lower thighs. After a few more moments, when she thought she would pass out from lack of air and she felt her legs growing weak, he suddenly released her and stepped back several feet. 

He looked past her, choosing to stare at a spot on the wall behind her left shoulder. He uncharacteristically jammed his hands into his trouser pockets and said simply, "As you can tell, I am fine. You have fulfilled your obligation to Albus. Now, if you will show yourself out, I have marking to do."

As he stood there, she realized for the first time since she entered the room how disheveled he looked. His hair was a mess, his shirt collar and sleeves open and his shirttails hung over his trousers. And most surprising of all, his feet were bare. In all the years she had known him, she didn't think she had ever seen him without his boots.

Minerva smoothed her hair down and adjusted her robes. Severus shifted his gaze and watched her carefully, saying nothing, but still with those angry eyes. 

"I could sack you for that ridiculous display."

"Why don't you?" he challenged.

Minerva was silent for a minute. And while one part of her brain tried to think of an appropriate answer to his question, another part replayed the entire visit to the dungeon all in a moment's time – and there something caught her attention. It was just a small thing, at least to her it would have been a small thing. But not to Severus. Definitely not to Severus. So she decided to do a very Slytherin thing. She decided to lie.

"I won't sack you because I can't. As I said earlier, Albus left instructions regarding  your welfare. He stated that you are to be kept at the school regardless of whether either of us wishes it or not. He went on to say that you are a most essential element of the Order and your well being is of the highest importance. Furthermore, as you were the very first item on his list – coming even before Mr. Potter – I will have to assume that he wants me to make your welfare a primary concern of mine. And I assure you Severus, I intend to follow Albus' wishes whether you like it or not."

He didn't say anything. He didn't even move. He had gotten so good at hiding his emotions from the world that probably no one would have even detected the tiniest of changes in his facial expression. No one except someone who had known him for 27 years. For Minerva could see that in the split second after she had finished speaking all the anger had gone out of his eyes. Now he was nothing more than a grief stricken, but still very private, man.

Jealously. She might have known. Severus was jealous of Harry Potter and Remus Lupin. Or rather, Severus was jealous of Albus' affections. When someone had so few avenues for such a thing, one tended to guard them well. And now Albus was dead, leaving Severus with nothing except perhaps a handful of positive memories. Albus would have known that of course, that's why he left her that third instruction. At that moment Minerva wished Albus really had listed Severus first.

Finally the man seemed to find his voice.  Although it was delivered in his usually disdainful tone, there was no bitterness any longer present. "Albus is no longer alive. The decision is entirely yours. So, either sack me or leave, if you please."

"I do not _please_ either," was her flippant response, said far more nonchalantly than she felt. Her brain was still going faster than she could consciously process her thoughts. He had been trying to scare her with that kiss. She was sure of it. But why use a kiss for intimidation? And what of her response? She had neither sacked him nor hexed him, both the logical response to such an action. Rather, she had lied to him – for him – in order to reassure him of his place in Albus' plans and affection. And even more surprising, she now found herself with an incredibly desire to once again kiss this annoying, jealous and grieving man. This time with affection and passion.

His voice broke her reverie. "Then I can assume you just intend to stand here in my rooms for the remainder of the term? Is that how you will be ensuring my mental health? Somehow I doubt that was what even Al…,' he stopped himself in mid-sentence. His face lost all expression and his eyes went blank. Reality was obviously setting in and he could no longer say the Headmaster's name without losing his composure; so he was, as usual, reverting to no emotion at all. Fine, she would fix that.

Years later Minerva would never be able to say what caused her to act upon the moment in the way she did. Perhaps it was the shock due to Albus' death, or perhaps Severus' attempt at intimidation had simply backfired – awakening long suppressed sexual feelings, or maybe it could even be said the ghost of Godric Gryffindor had chosen that moment to share the core of his courage with her; but whatever the reason, Minerva McGonagall chose action over words to show Severus Snape exactly how she intended to look after him. She took the few steps forward that was necessary, then reached up and grabbed a handful of linen shirt in each fist and yanked him down towards her. He was so surprised that he fell forward, the two of them crashing to the dungeon floor. Before he could have a chance to recover himself, or before she had a chance to rethink her actions, she had found his mouth and kissed him as passionately as he had not kissed her before. Then she pulled back her face from his, though left her body in close contact, and scrutinized his face for a reaction. 

His eyes bored into her for a moment, as if he were pondering if this was some sort of joke, or perhaps madness on her part caused by Albus' death. But finding only a look of sincerity and hopefulness, he allowed his features to relax a bit.

Then he leaned a tilted face towards her, his lips inches from hers, and said in a quiet, but breathless voice, "It is a novel approach to be sure, but I would prefer it to any other method of supervision." Then he closed the last few centimeters that remained between them, and kissed her most passionately and most completely.


End file.
